


Wrestling with Angels, I Can Show You the Scars

by Pants (Smarty_Pants)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blessing, Canon Compliant, DJL Park Prompt, DJL UC&P Prompt, I'm really bad at tagging, Jacob's Dream, M/M, Noah Reid - Freeform, Noah Reid music, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smarty_Pants/pseuds/Pants
Summary: Two people go to a park and have a nice chat. One finds his thoughts finally untangle as he receives the blessing he’s been asking for.





	Wrestling with Angels, I Can Show You the Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Daniel Levy inspires me every day and the day he accidentally offered us this fanfic prompt was no different. His presence continues to be a gift to the fans of Schitt's Creek and the fanficdom.
> 
> Thank you to [barelypink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barelypink/pseuds/barelypink) for the idea of who might be in that park and why. Your friendship is a lovely thing I never expected. Thanks as always to [Distractivate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distractivate/pseuds/Distractivate) for your support and encouragement. And letting me be real. I feel blessed for all the wonderful people that distract the hell out of me all day long. And thank you to the readers of Schitt's Creek fics. This really is a sweet journey we are on.

Two people go to a park and have a nice chat. A nice secret chat. A nice-very-secret-David-Rose-does-not-know-about-this-chat chat.

They sit side by side on a bench. He’s acting nervous, rubbing his palms together and smoothing them down his thighs. He adjusts his baseball cap and looks around as if worried that someone will see them talking. Like he’s there on a special spy mission. Like he’s not sure how to say what he needs to say to her.

She’s immediately suspicious as to why. These two people love each other. They are usually at ease. They are especially at ease when they are teasing David. They love teasing David. And the only thing they love more than teasing David is loving David. Urgently. Sometimes as much as either of their hearts can take.

“OK, Brewer, spill it. You dragged me down here at the butt-crack of dawn the one day I can sleep in because. . .?” Her eyes narrow as she watches the joggers on the path running along the edge of the creek. _Goddamned overachievers. _She takes a sip from her coffee, exhales, wishes for a nice Sunday morning joint. “It’s not— Patrick, god. You two, you’re OK, you’re solid? You’re not . . . this isn’t . . .?” 

The look on his face tells her that isn’t it. That he can’t even imagine that as a possibility. That it hurts him to even think of that.

“_Okayyyy, geez._ Got it. That’s not it,” she confirms. His pained look eases. “Then, what’s up, Mein Lieber Herr? Something so secret that we couldn’t we talk about it at rehearsals? Or at the store? At the motel? In the café?”

Yep, she wouldn’t be Stevie if she didn’t give him shit. Patrick smiles.

“So yeah—hrmgh—thanks for coming all the way out here,” he says, his voice sounding unnaturally high and rough. “I know this is a little strange. . .” He stops, makes another funny noise in the back of his throat.

Okay, Patrick is being weird and Stevie’s ready for another cup of coffee so she hand-waves him to continue, a gesture she’s picked up from spending so much time with David. “And . . .?”

“And . . . yeah so, I have something to talk with you about. I needed this to be just between us. None of the town regulars to interrupt us—_and no Roses either_.” She looks at him pointedly but doesn’t speak, allowing him the space to say what he needs to say.

But Patrick doesn’t say more. Instead, he takes a long moment watching the gurgling creek as it flows along the edge of the park towards Elmdale. Her eyes follow his.

Something is definitely up and she can’t tell yet if it’s going to be something bad or something good or something very good. At least she knows the one very bad thing it isn’t. David loves this man so fiercely. Thank god, that's not it. She can’t imagine having to pick up those pieces.

Patrick exhales, some of his nervousness dissipates as he rests his eyes on the soothing flow of the water over the rocks and the grassy, muddy creek bank. Finally, he speaks.

“Oh, I— I was just thinking about, do you remember that time that David wore that shower cap that whole day? Because he thought it would protect him from lice? And remember that little beanie he wore on top of it?” He is laughing but still says the name _David_ gently, like a prayer.

“Hahh. Sure, I remember. That was the first day I met you. After hearing for weeks about _Patrick this _and _Patrick that._” She playfully punches him in the shoulder. “Then you invited him to stay with you despite having no actual place to put him except your own bed in a not-so-private room at Ray’s?” she teases. Patrick nods, his smile spreading.

“Smooth move, Romeo. Such excellent planning on your part. And yet somehow I ended up with his ass at my place that night.” She smiles her Stevie smile. “That’s when I was pretty sure there was something going on with you two.”

“Really?” He is surprised. “Because there wasn’t anything then, yet. I mean—I wanted to.”

“Oh, I knowww,” she says. “You both wanted to. But it took you two dumb idiots awhile to figure that out.”

“Hey!” he says, pretending to be hurt. “I mean, OK, you’re not wrong. Since when I asked him out on a date, he invited you along . . . anyway, hah. I was, mmm, was thinking. . . remember that time we moved the plungers?”

“Do I _remember_? Hell yes, Patrick, I remember!” she chokes out a laugh. “If looks could kill, man, we’d be chilling in the morgue. I think that might be the most worked up I’ve seen David—other than, well. . . umm.” He looks at her, knows what she’s thinking. Neither of them want her to finish the thought with a mention of the barbecue. They let the moment pass.

“How about the time when. . .” he starts. But she holds up her hand like a traffic cop. 

“Patrick.” She looks at him sternly. But fondly.

“Stevie.” He swallows. This is going to be real as soon as he says it out loud.

“Patrick. Why are we here?”

He adjusts his secret agent ballcap again, looks around the quiet park. His hand drops to the backpack at his feet, unzips a pocket. He slips in his hand and pulls out a rectangular velvet box. Stevie inhales sharply. The box is maybe too big to be what she thinks. Yet it must be.

Two people sit in a park and chat about body milk and mountaineering shoes and framed receipts and best friends and boyfriends and hiking routes and golden rings and finding the love of your life.

“Stevie, I need to ask you for something.”

“Me? Oh. . . _oh_ _oh Patrick . ._ .” she says wetly. She throws her arms around his neck.

And Patrick relaxes into the blessing of this unlikely angel.

**Author's Note:**

> The title and some ideas sprinkled into the story come from Noah Reid's new single, [Jacob's Dream](https://globalnews.ca/video/6033309/schitts-creek-star-noah-reid-performs-jacobs-dream). 
> 
> Well, I'm wrestling with angels, I'm lost in a dream  
my thoughts are all tangled up, I come apart at the seams  
like I'm never gonna find a way  
I'd talk with the devil but I wouldn't know what to say  
so I'm wrestling with angels, I'm losing the fight  
they're trying to strangle me with all of their might  
be the blessing lord that I've been asking for  
put my head through a window, shut my hand in the door
> 
> I've been working the angles, but all I can see is  
I'm setting the table for my own defeat  
yeah and I don't think I'd be able to compete  
with the angels
> 
> oh lord and I've been talking to strangers  
don't know who to believe  
they tell me I'm stable here but I just want to leave  
keep on falling down like so many stars  
I've been wrestling with angels and I can show you the scars


End file.
